Royal Society of Agoraphobes
There’s a woman who won’t make it into a book of feisty, strong, shocking amazing women, unless I write her in. Her name is Deb and she’s Queen in our Royal Society of Agoraphobes. You won’t see her on the diving board at the Olympics or scaling tall buildings in a single bound. Chances are you won’t see her at all. I know I haven’t. Though we have been friends these past few months we’ve never met, and we may never meet.
The reason is that we are in separate cities. She in rural Port Augusta, South Australia. Me in the busy razzle dazzle of Sydney town. Why not fly you ask? Meet up in the centre? Because we are both members of the Royal Society of Agoraphobes. She is the Queen, I the humble Princess. Membership to this club is very exclusive, among the list of prerequisites are an ability to run at the sight of a hairdresser, bus, train or any seat in which you will be stuck unable to flee, the ability to stay for long periods in your house without seeking the sanity of the outside world and the ability to be misunderstood by most other non-royal subjects as being a coward, loser, someone who does not try enough or someone who simply does not care.
Those outside the exclusive circle of the Society cannot appreciate the efforts to which the Queen goes to live a normal everyday life. They cannot appreciate the battles with the nerves, the anticipatory anxiety that comes with setting foot beyond the threshold, the sheer joy of breathing a few easy moments in an environment outside home, on those rare occasions when it comes, the easing of the muscles.
This Queen may not make it into a book. Where pious women will save souls and rich women will collect shoes. She will not glide onto the covers of magazines with an anorexic model butt or a celebrity helicopter flight over all her chateaux.
She will simply get up in the morning, if she has the energy she will get dressed. If she’s not shaking too hard she’ll eat some breakfast and have a shower. If she can possibly draw the courage she will step outside her house. And if she is the bravest woman who ever lived she will step out into the open air and breathe an easy breath.
Most will do this without thought. Every day, one long day after another, they trudge their grey lives. But we blue bloods will never take this simple outside world for granted. We will always smell the breeze, and take a moment to touch the leaves of the eucalypt.
The reason is that we are in separate cities. She in rural Port Augusta, South Australia. Me in the busy razzle dazzle of Sydney town. Why not fly you ask? Meet up in the centre? Because we are both members of the Royal Society of Agoraphobes. She is the Queen, I the humble Princess. Membership to this club is very exclusive, among the list of prerequisites are an ability to run at the sight of a hairdresser, bus, train or any seat in which you will be stuck unable to flee, the ability to stay for long periods in your house without seeking the sanity of the outside world and the ability to be misunderstood by most other non-royal subjects as being a coward, loser, someone who does not try enough or someone who simply does not care.
Those outside the exclusive circle of the Society cannot appreciate the efforts to which the Queen goes to live a normal everyday life. They cannot appreciate the battles with the nerves, the anticipatory anxiety that comes with setting foot beyond the threshold, the sheer joy of breathing a few easy moments in an environment outside home, on those rare occasions when it comes, the easing of the muscles.
This Queen may not make it into a book. Where pious women will save souls and rich women will collect shoes. She will not glide onto the covers of magazines with an anorexic model butt or a celebrity helicopter flight over all her chateaux.
She will simply get up in the morning, if she has the energy she will get dressed. If she’s not shaking too hard she’ll eat some breakfast and have a shower. If she can possibly draw the courage she will step outside her house. And if she is the bravest woman who ever lived she will step out into the open air and breathe an easy breath.
Most will do this without thought. Every day, one long day after another, they trudge their grey lives. But we blue bloods will never take this simple outside world for granted. We will always smell the breeze, and take a moment to touch the leaves of the eucalypt.
posted by Jessica at 3:05 pm
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